


Last of The Bats

by DickBabs, Iruthb



Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, suicidal behaviour tw - trying to avoid becoming a Zombie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:52:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBabs/pseuds/DickBabs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iruthb/pseuds/Iruthb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick and Barbara are forced to leave their vigilante lives behind to survive when Zombies infest the Earth. It's a daily struggle in a world where morals take the back bench, but at least they have eachother. That is, until their luck runs out and one of them gets bitten.</p>
<p>Work is completed, chapters will be posted every few days until the work is done! Tags will also be added for each chapter as they become relevant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Escape

The first thing she heard was a long, low moan, quickly echoed by other unhuman noises. Barbara cracked her eyes open, still half asleep, before she fully registered what she was hearing. A heavy weight was resting on her arm, pinning her in place as the moaning grew louder. Shit. _Shit._ Neither of them had intended to fall asleep here. It should have been a quick stop to eat food in peace before continuing on. There were too many Infected in this region to really stay - far more than their intel had originally suggested. She silently reached over to shake the weight on her arm - a weight more affectionately known as Dick Grayson. More creaks and moans followed from outside as he woke up groggily.

Quickly covering his mouth so he wouldn't make a sound, Barbara gestured to her ear and then the thin shack walls. Listen. Runners and Stalkers, sounded like. There was no clicking to be heard, thankfully. Both of them were trained for this, and without words started moving, started preparing in sync. Barbara lifted herself into her chair, strapping herself in so she couldn’t be tossed out and attaching her metallic guards to her remaining leg. Both of them had fallen asleep in the biker gear they’d stolen long ago; the thick material and guards held their own against bites for short periods of time, and had saved both their skins on more than one occasion. Dick meanwhile was carefully checking the perimeter of the shack to listen whether there was a gap in the pack for them to break through and make a run for it. No such luck: they were completely surrounded, and the amount of noise from outside suggested over a dozen of them. They had a strategy for these situations and a car not too far away. We’ll get through this, Barbara reassured herself. When she next looked his way, Dick was already holding the nail bombs, and Barbara raised her semi-automatic in preparation. Funny how necessity could make you forget old hatreds. She gave Dick a small nod to say that she was ready when he was.

It had been too long for him to remember since they'd found something that made them truly smile. The world was dark and scary still, and at some points, seemed a bit hopeless. The home they'd been searching for, the purpose in this world, had still eluded them. The Fireflies couldn't have been too far off by the time they'd stopped at the shack. Sleep wasn't actually in the schedule, but they'd somehow both fallen into it. Maybe it was because they were exhausted, tired of just walking with no destination. But when Dick's eyes opened again, and Babs' hand was over his mouth, he knew it wasn't good. He quickly and quietly scoped out the noise, estimating a good dozen Runners and Stalkers outside their shack. Surrounded. It didn't look good.

He pulled out two nail bombs and motioned to the door-- Babs knew what he meant without any words. At least they still had each other. He readied his shotgun, the better weapon for close combat kills, then nodded back to her. The door creaked open. One bomb chucked, then two, then the door slammed shut again. His heart beat quickly in his chest. Silence. And then....BOOM. Screaming. BOOM. More screaming. Dick ripped the door open and let Babs through first, holding up his shotgun immediately. All they had to do was make it through the hoard and to the car. He could see it up on the hill. But the moment they stepped out, they were spotted. Swarmed. Attacked. "Go, Babs, go!" he shouted, firing off his rounds, one after another. There were so many. Could this really be it? Their last fighting moment?

As soon as the Infected poured in, Barbara open fired. The bodies of the ones that had been destroyed by the nail bombs were slowing the Infected coming in, and for a short while the door acted as a bottleneck, until the Stalkers started tearing wood from the doorframe and letting more through. Dick was already outside, fighting his way through the swarm to the other side, but the sheer bulkiness of her chair made that impossible for her until the numbers were much thinner. The semi's clip emptied too soon, and in the split second it took to drop it in her lap and reach for her dagger a Stalker was on her, teeth gnashing just inches away from her face.

Barbara pushed her arm hard against its chest, holding it at bay with all her strength while with her other hand she reached for her dagger. Her fingers tightened around the grip and instantly drove the serrated blade into the monster’s neck, jerking it to the right until the dagger came free. In the same motion, she swung it and stabbed into a Runner dangerously close to her left, someone who once could have been a lumberjack in its human life. The Stalker’s body hit the floor with a thump, but the Runner fell towards her, forcing Barbara to catch him. Using his momentum to help, she threw the body over at two more Runners, pinning them to the floor.

Finally the doorways was clear enough for her to get outside - the remaining six Runners and Stalkers were surrounding Dick, not currently aware of her. The small breathing air gave her time to light a Molotov and throw it in the shack to stop the two trapped Runners ever breaking free. Then, dagger in hand, she stabbed the nearest one from behind. Its scream alerted the others of her presence and the element of surprise was lost, but between them they could handle five, surely.

Dick wasn't ever going to give up. He determined that in the moments it took him to reload his gun and spot Babs out of the corner of his eye. She was fighting so fiercely. She always had. And so he would, too, no matter what. He would fight for himself, and for her, and for a better life in this rotten world. The thick biker jacket protected his arms from the horde of snapping mouths as he drove an elbow into one's face, feeling the skull fracture and disintegrate under his arm. But even as one went down, another filled its place. Surrounded. He needed to get to the van, to get to Babs. He needed to survive this.

Whipping out his machete, Dick lopped two of their heads off as Babs finally reached him, jabbing one with her dagger. The shack was lit up behind them, an inferno of death. Screams could be heard from inside. Dick swung again, jabbing the machete straight through one’s chest as it tried to leap for Babs. He ripped the blade out, narrowly ducking out of the way as one snapped for his face. It got a blade through the eyeball, and subsequently, brain. It dropped to the ground dead. He looked over to Babs, who was fending off the last three. A well timed throw sent one of them toppling to the ground with a machete to the back and he was already pulling out his own dagger to come help her, trying not to trip over the mangled bodies on the ground. They were gonna make it.

Barbara was grappling with another Runner, gnashing teeth just inches away from her skin. She gave it a hard shove, only for it to charge right back at her. This time, she was ready, stabbing it in the stomach and pushing it into the other one that was also reaching in. The body dropped off her blade, Barbara twisted, and stabbed her dagger into the last Infected's gaping mouth at the same moment that a knife jutted out of its throat. The body dropped, revealing a very relieved Dick behind it. Both of them were covered in blood and tiny pieces of Cordyceps, illuminated by the burning shack nearby. The only sounds now was the crackling fire and the wood consumed by it, the cold autumn wind whistling around them, and them, breathing hard and fast. "That was close," she observed with a dry smile, scanning Dick for bites. Nothing obvious right now, and they could check more thoroughly later. Then they heard it - more creaking. More Stalkers. "Let's get out of here before they show up. Come on, Boy Wonder. Don't forget the machete." With that said, Babs raised up her front wheels and rolled over the body of a Runner, feeling bones crack under her wheels as she went.

Dick let out a relieved breath when the last Runner dropped and Babs was behind it, covered in just as much blood as he himself was. Dick couldn't help but smile at her, reaching out to wipe a smear of blood off her forehead. He tensed when they heard more crackling, and he turned, nodding. Using his feet, he shoved a path through the bodies so that Babs could get through more easily and he began loading the car up, grabbing the machete on his way. "We'll just find a more secure place, stop for the night for real this time," he agreed, watching her pull herself into the car. It was too dark to see much right now, they wouldn't get too far at night, anyway. Just somewhere safer, less full of Runners.

He put her wheelchair in the back and hopped into the driver's side, turning on the engine as quietly as he could before pulling away from that spot, the fire still raging in the shack. It would actually make a good distraction for them to put some distance between them and the Stalkers. After about fifteen minutes, they reached a little enclosed area, somewhere they could more easily hide from any attackers. Dick pulled the car over and went around to help Babs out. That's when he saw _it_. His whole body froze.

"...Babs..." he muttered, his voice trembling. "Babs, what happened?"


	2. The Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizing what has happened, Barbara remembers a woman she helped just a few months into the Cordyceps pandemic, and Dick is forced to remember a promise he'd much rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild suicidal behaviour/ideation tw - in the context of avoiding becoming an Infected

Feeling the engine start let Barbara relax slightly. She missed driving, but setting up a car so that both of them could drive took time and energy neither of them could spare, so she’d learned to settle for the passenger seat. For a short while, she just watched Dick drive, blood already drying onto his skin. That was something else she missed like hell - hot showers with shampoo and conditioner, and fruity shower gels so you could pretend that the day's sweat and grit had never touched you. Not any more. Her hair was just long enough so that it could be tied back or used as ear warmers on a cold day, but anything else was unmanageable. Dick's hair wasn't much better, but that didn't stop her wanting to run her hands through it and pull him in for a kiss, until neither of them could breathe. When every day promised death, every kiss felt like the last; they had to make it count. She missed that, too. The luxury of having time to enjoy each other. Their lives had never been safe, but now even the threat of the Joker and his many lackeys seemed mild compared to the Infected and other threats they'd faced since the world had ended.

But there was as little use to nostalgia as there was to phones nowadays. Barbara shook herself out of her thoughts and started wriggling out of her stained jacket to properly check herself over. A couple of bruises were forming, and her arms would probably ache like hell tomorrow, but no bites. Continuing to run her fingers over her neck and torso to check her body, Barbara found several splinters, slick blood (that was thankfully never hers), and old scars from years of being at war. It wasn't until she reached her hips that Barbara froze, turning white as a sheet as her bones turned to ice. It was below where her body could actually feel pain, at the edge of where her jacket and pants should have protected her. The jacket must have ridden up, she realised with a sickening horror as her fingers traced the bite, feeling each indentation, but as if it was on another person's body. This couldn’t be real, couldn't have happened again, not to her. She'd been so careful, both of them had been. Worse: she couldn’t remember any point where anything had been low enough to bite her but still alive.

Instinctively, Barbara reached for her knife, her knuckles white over the handle. She twisted the blade so it was pointed at her, hovering inches away from her throat. It was just a quick jab towards her. She could have done it. Should have done it.

Except for Dick. His eyes were still on the road, oblivious to the agonising discovery Barbara had just made. If she did this now, he'd drive himself off the road in shock, or crash. She'd wait until they stopped, and then they'd deal with it together. No, deal with her. Her stomach turned and she wanted to cry and scream at the unfairness of it all. She put the dagger back on her knee, blade still facing her: a promise to herself. The first thing it had done in her hand was take a life, and right now it looked like it would probably be the last thing it did in her hand, too.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Wait, Dick, do you hear that?" Barbara asked quietly. They'd been scavenging an abandoned house for food supplies after having snuck in through a broken door. They'd encounted a few Runners in the area, but luckily none in packs. Both of them were armed with kitchen knives and their trusty eskrima sticks, and Dick had found a shotgun Barbara refused to touch. At first, Barbara had thought it had been the moaning of a Runner, but now she was listening, it sounded like crying, coming from the bedroom. They edged towards the bedroom, cautiously opening the door._

_It took a moment to spot her: a young woman crouched by the bed, with olive skin (a similar shade to Dick’s, Barbara noted) and black hair twisted into a fraying braid, a bloody dagger in her hand and a runner on the floor. The woman glanced up at them, lowering her hands for a moment to expose the bite on her chin. Her eyes lit up with some tiny hope._

_"Please, you have to kill me! I- I tried, but I can't do it. I don't want to infect anyone, please!" The young woman begged, her voice cracking. She could clearly see the hesitation in both their faces, and started sobbing again. "I don't want to become like them, I want to sti-ill be me!"_

_Barbara froze, torn by the morals she'd grown up with and this poor woman's suffering. "Dick, can you leave, please?" It was phrased as a question, but the tone was the commanding one belonging to their vigilante days. "Now." Barbara didn't even look at him, rolling over to the woman. The blood on her neck was nearly dry - the bite couldn't have been more than an hour old. If they'd been sooner, they might have saved her. Lowering herself to the ground, Babs gently took the dagger from the woman's hand. "What's your name?" She asked softly. There was a long pause, filled with sobs, before the answer came._

_"Lily." Barbara nodded, smiling sadly._

_"You're very brave, Lily. I'm Barbara, but if you want, you can call me Babs." Lily nodded, echoing her name, like it was some tether to humanity. "I want you to close your eyes, Lily, and tell me about yourself." Lily shook her head, clearly too distraught to talk anymore, and Barbara couldn't blame her. "Okay, then I'll tell you about me. I used to be a vigilante, you know. Me and my boyfriend, we used to think we could save the world, so we tried, every night." She started telling Lily about their adventures, the silly chases over rooftops they used to have. Lily's sobs started to fade as she listened, tense, waiting for the killing blow to come. Barbara waited until she was so immersed in the story that she could see Lily's shoulders ease. The dagger went into her throat with sickening ease, and when she jerked it out, Lily’s blood sprayed all over her. It was the first time she'd ever killed a human, the first time either of them had taken a life._

_After a long minute, Babs got back in her chair and rolled out of the bedroom, blood coating her hands like murderous gloves. Dick was waiting just outside, as if he'd been listening in. His eyes were glistening with tears, and Barbara could feel her own burning too. "Promise me. Promise me that if that's ever me, you won't make me kill me. Promise me you'll make it quick. And if it's ever you I promise to do the same." Barbara barely had time to register Dick's nod before they were hugging, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she clutched to him for dear life. The idea of losing him was terrifying, but the idea of becoming a monster even more so. So she held on as if letting go would be letting go of life itself, and when they kissed, it was to drown out their sorrows, and to remind themselves that they had eachother, if nothing else._

* * *

 

Barbara sat in silence for the entire car journey. When Dick pulled over, she barely registered the strategic location he'd chosen, barely looked for escape routes and defensive points, only thinking of the horrible truth she was about to share. Dick had climbed out, but she hadn't even touched her seatbelt or opened the door. When he did, of course he saw the bite. It was a glaring, angry red on her right hip, in full view. Barbara didn't look up to meet his gaze, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet but miraculously steady. "Do you remember your promise?" She asked quietly, before holding up her dagger. Lily's dagger.

 


	3. The Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dick lives up to his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal ideation/behaviour in the context of not wanting to become a Zombie

Dick was just staring. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or a delusion. Yes, he must just be seeing things. It wasn't a bite-- it couldn't be a bite. Babs was all he had left. He was all she had. If they lost each other, they would have nothing. If he lost her...he would have literally nothing. No family, no purpose, no place. No, this wasn't happening. It wasn't. He dropped his bag and stepped away from her. "Babs," he said, his voice still trembling. All he could think of was the years they'd spent together. How careful they'd always been. From the first day to this very moment, everything was hitting Dick like a freight train, and he felt like his chest was swelling. "Babs, no," he croaked. "We...we were..." Of course he remembered their promise. How long had she known? The whole car ride? That meant... "No. No. No, Babs, no. We can...I...Babs," he stuttered, backing away a little more. His heart was pounding. He could see the pain in her eyes. Their promise, his promise. But he couldn't, he couldn't lose Babs, she was all he had left. All he would ever have in this life now. And some cruel fate had chosen to rip that away from him.

"We were so careful!" he shouted. "All the time! Babs! It was just...it was just one little mistake! One tiny slip up! We just fell asleep, for...for maybe a few hours! This shouldn't have happened! It shouldn't have happened!" he nearly sobbed. He was losing it. He was losing her, and he was losing himself just thinking about it. "Babs, I--" He was frozen in his spot now, the dagger in his back pocket suddenly so heavy, so apparent. He looked at the dagger she was holding up to him-- it was the same one she'd used all those years ago, back when they'd had to do the hardest thing about this life-- take a life. A mercy kill. Dick had heard the whole thing, and he'd had to stifle his own cries by biting down on his own arm. That's when they'd made their promise, and back then, though it had seemed like a possibility, it had felt more like an insurance bond, a symbol of their loyalty to each other, than something that would actually happen. Something that they would have actually have to face. But Dick had been fooling himself. He was always the optimist, after all, and while Babs probably would have only hesitated a moment to kill him, he decided in these moments that he couldn't do it. Whether it was because he loved her too much, or was just too weak to live without her, he couldn't do it. He shook his head. "No, I can't. I'm sorry, I-- I can't."

"Fine," Barbara replied, her voice dangerously low. "Bring me my wheelchair. I'll get as far away as I can. I'm not losing my mind to this, and clearly it was unfair to ask for your help." Its not like it's my death bed or something. Irritability was one of the first symptoms of Infection. Barbara bit her teeth together to swallow the scream that was threatening to escape. "Richard. Chair. Now!" It wasn't fair to take this out on him, Barbara knew. They'd both lost enough people that she knew he had the harder deal.

Dick stayed where he was, watching her fill with anger. Of course she was angry, and he deserved every piece of the betrayed fury she aimed at him. She snapped at him, but he stood his ground, his whole body trembling. "No," he said firmly. His eyes met hers in a blaze. "No," was all he could say. It was all he felt, about everything that was currently happening. Just, no. Dick wanted it all to stop, to all go away. He pulled out the dagger in his back pocket and gripped it tightly for a moment, before turning and hucking it into the brush. "NO!" he screamed. "No! You're not-- I'm not letting you kill yourself!" he screeched, not caring who-- or what-- heard him. "No. Fuck you, Babs! Fuck you!

"How could you do this!? How could you do this to me!? How can you expect me to go on without you!?" he yelled. "Fuck you!"

Barbara stayed silent during his screaming tantrum, waiting until he ran out of steam before even considering answering. No matter how much she wanted to be sympathetic, right now Dick’s grief was about to get him killed, and she was filled a rage that didn’t feel fully human.

"No?" She repeated icily, her quiet tone every bit as angry as his yelling. "Oh great then. I'll just turn back time and get myself unbitten, all better! It's such a good thing you said no." Barbara forced herself to take a deep breath, to listen, to calm down. It wasn't easy when she could feel her heart racing, every heartbeat spreading the infection further around her body. "Go inside, Dick. Go inside and close your eyes and pretend this isn't happening, if it makes this easier. But don't make me become like them. Don't make me fight a battle everyone knows I'm going to lose. I'm going to die whether it's right now on my terms or whether it's tomorrow when the Cordyceps infests my brain. All I'm asking is not to become another nameless threat to be disposed of!" And to not have to die alone, Barbara wanted to add. But there was only so much guilt tripping she could justify, even by her standards.

Refusing to wait for an answer, Barbara rolled out of the car, scraping her hands and knee on the tarmac. Crawling was harder with one leg, but she did anyway, intending to get her chair out of the back herself. Saying goodbye was impossible, so she didn't.

Dick grit his teeth. He was such a coward. He was making her go through this pain alone, and he was supposed to love her. Supposed to make sure she didn't hurt anymore. Tears clouded his eyes, when he heard a thud! Opening his eyes and looking up, Dick saw Babs crawling across the ground to grab her chair. He was frozen for another moment, staring. How could this be happening? After everything they'd been through, it came down to this-- him, refusing to end her life, and her, angry and bitter and betrayed. No, no it couldn't end this way. It wouldn't. He moved faster than he'd ever really moved before, catching her hand before she reached the back of the car. "I won't let you!" he shouted, yanking her away from the car and catching her dagger in his free hand. The surprise had given him the upper hand on her, and if he didn't act now, she was going to recuperate and probably break every bone in his arm. So he did something he never thought he would have ever done-- he grabbed her head and smacked it, hard, against the back of the car. She was unconscious instantaneously. Dick shuddered and slid down to sit next to her. "I'm so sorry, Babs," he muttered through his hands. "I can't let you go."

He only sat there for a few moments longer, knowing that either something would stumble onto them if they stayed, or Babs would awaken and everything would be so much worse. Dick stared at her, beaten and bloody and tired, and felt himself overcome with grief. She was asleep, and the only sounds were his sobs. A decision was made in that moment, as he held the dagger above her chest. He couldn't do it. He couldn't live without her. Standing up, he scooped her into his arms and stalked over to a tree, one that was a little hidden, back behind the grove. He laid Babs against the tree then stalked back to the car, grabbing their extra-strength kevlar rope and went back over to her. Tied her to the tree, making sure her arms were secure and she couldn't undo herself, and sat down a few yards away, flipping the dagger between his hands. Then, he waited. She would wake soon enough.

 

 


	4. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me I've read the situation wrong. Tell me you're not being unbelievably asinine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide ideation/behaviour tw for this chapter

Barbara came to with a slow groan. Her head pounded as loud as drums, . When she opened her eyes, everything looked fuzzier than usual - which was impressive, given her already existing hypermetropia. Her hands stung, but the why escaped her. It was like a fog had descended on her brain, and even realising that she was tied to what felt like a tree took long seconds to process. Tied to a tree. Captured. Ambushed? In danger. Barbara started looking for a knot, even though it was probably on the far side of the tree.

Instead, she performed a mental body scan. Arms: unbroken but achey and cold, and she wasn't wearing her protective jacket. Hands: stung as if scraped, so she wasn't wearing her gloves either. Torso: no apparent injuries, apart from the tightness around her waist where the rope cut in. Leg and hips: as unresponsive as ever.

Her next priority was to find Dick. Whoever had tied her up must have been human: Infected didn't take hostages. In the blurry dark, she could just about make out Dick's outline. A memory returned: arguing. He hadn't wanted to kill her, hadn't wanted her to die. Why was she dying? The fog parted a little, and suddenly Barbara felt sick. She’d been bitten. After that, the memories made themselves known quickly - the burning shack, crawling out of the car, Dick grabbing her arm. Barbara still couldn't remember what happened next, but she could guess.

"It would have been better to tie me up completely vertical, if you were going the Suspension Trauma route. Did you know that's a popular theory as to how Jesus died? He fainted while vertical and his body couldn't get the blood into his brain... so he died of oxygen deprivation." She was joking, but there was a dangerous edge to her voice. "Tell me I've read the situation wrong. Tell me you're not being unbelievably asinine."

Dick remained silent, even as he heard Babs coming to. It hadn't been much less than an hour since he'd knocked her out, but the night was still brisk and full and ever haunting. He waited for her to notice him, waited for all the pieces to fall together-- and still, he didn't speak. Didn't even look up. He had made his decision and there was nothing she could do now to change it. Her little rant about Jesus almost made him smile-- it was just like her to throw something like that in to conversation. Always relating current situations to something not a lot of people know.

He kept his head bowed, the dagger loose in his left hand. If Babs was to succumb to her fate, he would not be the one to snuff out her light. They both knew that if he was going to kill her, anyway, he would have done it quick and mercifully. Stringing her up to die from oxygen deprivation definitely wasn't his style. He could barrel through a pack of Runners and Stalkers, but Dick Grayson was still a gentle hand, hesitant every time a real human posed him a threat. The scruff of his beard made him look more fierce than he was, but it was pointless to try and remove it, just like the length of his hair. Things that were once important no longer mattered. Back when they were thirteen, they never would have ever imagined their lives coming to something like this-- Babs, tied to a tree, dying slowly. And Dick, the one that put her there. He shifted slightly, but remained silent. He had nothing left to say. He was going to go with her.

“So what's your plan?" Barbara asked when he remained silent. Her head was killing her, and every moment her frustration grew, the growing sense of betrayal that Dick wasn't even going to give her the dignity of death. "You're just going to watch as the mycellium grows in my brain? What are you going to wait for, until I can't remember you anymore? Until my eyes start going red? Or will you wait until the fungus starts erupting from my face, when I don't look like me anymore?" It wasn't fair. Barbara knew it wasn't fair to ask him these questions, but she wanted him to hurt, wanted to illicit a response, wanted him to know how selfish he was being. "Dick, I love you, but please don't make me suffer through this." Once upon a time, she'd used her brain to prevent crime, saved hundreds of lives from behind her computer screen. Losing it slowly to a fungus was worse than death. Dick had to know that.

Dick bit down hard on his tongue until he tasted iron. His body shook as he tried to fight off the anger -- he knew she was just saying these things to get under his skin, but it was working. God, was it working. His grip on the dagger tightened. He knew how betrayed she must feel, how painful this was. His pain must have seemed like nothing to her, even though that's what he would become if he let her go-- nothing. He would have no purpose, no one to fight for, no one to stay alive for. No one to put him down when he was inevitably bitten as well. It wasn't that he wouldn't do it, he couldn't. He could not physically bring himself to destroy the only thing that gave him life. In another world, relying on someone like that would have been cruel. But in this life it was needed. He shuddered once as he drew in a breath.

"I wanna go with you," he mumbled, his words quiet and slurred, from sleep deprivation and exhaustion. He hadn't rested since the encounter. He tried to look up at her, but he couldn't-- He was too weak. He didn't deserve her gaze.

Barbara fell silent, shocked speechless. Her words had been made to cut him down, but his felled her in one simple swoop. A hot tear or two spilled down her cheeks, formed from frustration and pain from Dick's words. She had nothing to say. Barbara twisted her head away, no longer struggling against her binds. If he'd shouted it at her, she would have shouted back, but the quiet broken tone to his voice sucked the fight out of her too.

Dick chanced a small glance up at Babs. She was silent now, and she no longer struggled against her bounds. Her tears made his own body tremble. They would wait. Here, together, they would wait. And when it was over, Dick would let her bite him and they'd go together. It would all finally be over. And for a moment, he felt at peace. It had been five years since he'd felt like this, and it felt good enough to elicit a small smile. He stuck the dagger in the ground and crossed his legs. They would wait.

Barbara heard him stick the dagger in the ground, the last traces of her hope vanishing. In anger and desperation, she slammed her head against the tree repeatedly, but that did nothing except worsen her headache. Exhaustion was seeping in and she didn't want to fight him anymore. Selfish, coward, cruel, those were all words she wanted to spit at him, but there were others, more true ones. Isolated. Desperate. Like her. Terrified. Could she blame him? Well, yes, but Barbara didn't want to. For a long time, they sat in silence, contemplating her - and now, thanks to Dick, their - inevitable death.

Her tears dried, and after a while the waiting became mundane. Boring, even. "Do you think a concussion hinders the process?" she asked quietly, her voice croaking. "Dick, you don't have to die tonight."

Dick was silent in her anguish. He winced as she slammed her head against the tree, but let her relieve her frustrations. And when she finally calmed, he crawled over to her and sat next to her by the tree, leaning his head back to look up at the starry-night. It seemed as if this night was lasting forever. Her pleas were quiet, and he didn't answer most of them-- but that last silent cry tore at him.

He remained stalwart for a moment, before answering, "I died the second you were bitten." Whether he'd realized it or not, it was the truth. "I'm not strong like you, Babs. I can't make it alone in this world," he said, so quiet it almost escaped into the night unheard. "I'm sorry for that." He knew she understood that his strength in a past life was his downfall in this current one. What once made him strong was now his ultimate weakness, and for that, he was sorry.

But for everything else? The ache was no longer there. It was as inevitable as the fact that Babs was going to turn into a monster soon, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Resignation was his only option, too coward to even take his own life. His breed had died out a long time ago, because in this life, only the strong-willed survived out here. He remembered looking at her one more time before exhaustion overcame him and sleep set in-- he remembered how sad her face had looked, and remembered that the tears staining streaks through the grime on her face was his fault.

Long after he drifted off, Barbara stayed awake, his line running loops in her head. I died the second you were bitten. It was such a ridiculous line, cringeworthy, but he'd said it with such conviction that she couldn't help but believe him. That was what Dick was like. He needed people, thrived on social contact. Adrenaline was still pumping through her, despite the exhaustion. The instinct was still to fight against the bonds, to flee into the night, as if she could leave the danger behind. Wouldn't be long before her only instinct would be infecting. In the dark, she felt more lonely than ever before, staring into the dark woods, distracting herself with distant memories of complex algorithms that no one would need to know for a long time again. Codes she'd written to save hundreds that would be forgotten forever in just a few hours. Recalling them staved off the boredom.

The trees were looking increasingly blurry, leaves indistinguishable from one another now. Barbara couldn't tell whether it was the concussion or her exhaustion or the cordyceps growing in her eyes that made it harder to see. She turned to look at Dick, also blurred. "I love you," she told him quietly, wishing she'd said it when he'd been awake. Wishing she could say it a thousand more times. But as her eyes drifted shut and her head slumped away from him, Barbara reflected that as far as last words went, they weren't such bad ones. Darkness came to steal her away, promising relief from the pain that was soon to be inevitable. She took its hand and let the world fade away, just as the first rays of a new dawn broke through the trees.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let us know what you think! The next chapter is the last one, how do you think it's going to end? How do you want it to end?


	5. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

The first time she'd woken up, it had been because a squirrel had climbed on her face. But it had been the kind of awake that wasn't, where you rolled over and went back to sleep, barely registering anything except that the light on her face had been that of a sunset.

The second time she woke up, it was the middle of the day, a cold sun shining through the foliage. The pounding in the back of her head had been reduced to a dull thumping. The gentlest of snores alerted Babs to Dick's presence. And the total lack of desire she had to bite him. Over fourty hours must have passed since she'd been bitten, but still, nothing. "Dick?" She nudged him with her forhead. "Dick?"

Dick was in darkness, swirling. He was everything and nothing at once. There was no pain, but he felt nothing in turn, either. Was this what it was going to be like? When he finally went? Was he already gone? In the distance, he could hear a voice. He turned, searching for it. It sounded familiar. It sounded...soft. He turned in circles in the darkness, looking for it. He didn't want to wake up. It meant facing the cold, harsh world alone. It meant looking into Babs' dead eyes. It meant facing the monster he'd made, he'd let happen. But he had to. He had to wake up, because he just couldn't stay here. His body felt heavy, and someone was shaking him. His head was pounding, he was so thirsty, and his eyes fluttered slowly open. He had to blink a few times before anything came into focus. It was...Babs? And daylight. But Babs was...Babs. There was something on her face that Dick couldn't quite place yet. Wait. Wasn't she supposed to be dead by now? Infected? A Runner? Trying to kill him? He blinked again, rubbing his eyes.

"B-Babs?" he stuttered, his voice cracking with need for water. "What..." but he couldn't even finish. Tears were already falling down his eyes.

He stirred, opened his eyes. Didn't look anywhere near as fuzzy as he had before. She was healing. Impossibly. Tears were running down his face before she was certain there was a reason to cry those kinds of tears. "Check the bite," she instructed, looking pointedly down at bonds that stopped her doing the same.

Dick wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but it was daytime now. Far into the day. It was actually a miracle nothing had stumbled upon them here, but Dick had originally chosen the spot for a reason. He shook his head free of the grogginess that had built up while he'd slept. Babs was still bound to the tree and he maneuvered himself so that he could lift up her shirt and examine the wound. "It's...fine," he said, unbelieving. The wound was already closing itself up, and the swelling and bruising had gone down significantly. Instead of the glaring, bright red that it had been when he'd first seen it, it was now a dull pink, fading back into her skin color. "It's healing." He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say, what else he could say. She was alive, breathing, moving.

Quickly, he undid her bounds and backed up a little, looking at her with wide eyes. She wasn't turning. It was either a really good dream, or a miracle, and for a minute, Dick couldn't decide which seemed more likely. They'd heard whispers of people being able to fight off the infection, but never stop it. Never immune. Not even the fireflies truly believed it was possible. But almost two whole days. That was longer than any recorded immunity. She wasn't going to change. Dick fell to his knees, just now realizing the tears on his own face. He wiped a hand across them, smearing the dirt and grime that had built up. He had been so sure this was it for them. He had been so ready to go gently into that dark night. But Babs was okay, and that meant they needed to still survive. That meant this wasn't over. And a little part of Dick felt disappointed. Because death would have been the easy way out, but it seemed that, for people like them, the easy route was never an option. "You're okay."

"Don't-" Barbara started as he untied her, sighing. Hope was fluttering in her chest, making her feel light in the head. If she hadn't been leaning against the rough bark of the tree, nothing would have kept her grounded enough in the present. Immunity wasn't theoretically impossible, but in all their years, they'd never met a single person who had survived being bitten. It was unheard of. "We don't know that. I could still change, I'm still a threat." She looked down at the bite anyway, feeling the raised welts with her fingertips. A small giggle escaped her lips.

Dick looked back over at Babs, watching her check her own body, find out for herself. "Babs," he said quietly as she began to ramble. Still a threat, still could change, still dangerous. "Babs," he said again, a little louder. There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "Babs, you're fine. It's-- it's been almost two days, that's almost 20 hours longer than any recorded delay. Even with medicine," he contested, crawling back over to her. He took her face in his hands. "You're fine." He looked directly at her, his blue eyes shining with both tears and joy. He knew there were more sticky things to be discussed later-- his lack of drive to kill her off-- but it was just that that had saved her. Had saved Babs from premature death, and had given them a way out. And a way in. The fireflies would flip for this. Maybe they could find a cure. Save people. "You're fine," he repeated.

Barbara looked up as his hands held her face, meeting his gaze. Alive, both of them. She took a deep breath, and then another, until they stopped sounding so shakey. Wanted to surge forward, tangle her fingers in his thick scruffy hair, to pull him down on top of her and kiss him until the sun set again. What she really wanted was control over the situation, to know and understand all the variables, to know what was safe and what wasn't. And things like kissing, and sex, and even sharing a water bottle were out of the question, so instead she pulled him in for a tight hug, wincing as she bumped the lump on her head against his. Alive didn't mean safe, but it meant going on. "I might still be infectious," she told him, "and I will be extremely angry about what you did in an hour, but right now I'm extremely hungry so you need to go bring me my chair so I can hunt for our dinner." Letting go, she gave his shoulders a gentle push, still smiling. "Wait, Dick. You do know what this means, right?"

Dick couldn't help but sigh. He leaned gratefully into the hug, and just listened as she ranted to him. He figured as much, and he would take the anger in stride-- because she was alive, and even if it was by some stupid mistake that she was, he was glad he'd made it. He could take the anger because it meant she was still alive, still breathing, still beside him. He would take the anger and the rage and the broken trust for the rest of his life if it meant Babs would never leave him again. He sighed again, nodding. "I'll go--" but stopped when she spoke up again. He turned, looking at her. "Uhh, we get to go on that cruise we always wanted to?" he joked, giving a shrug and a grin.

Barbara rolled her eyes, stretching her neck to soothe the nasty crick from sleeping upright. She didn't even want to think about the pressure sores. Giving him a small smile, she lifted up her leg stump off the ground. It still felt like a dream, the impossible, but relief and hope were growing in her the way the cordyceps should have, and she couldn't help but find the humor in the situation.

“It means, smartass, that I cut this damn thing off for nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! We hope this left you with as much feels as it left us! Did you enjoy it? Did you want things to end the other way? Let us know in the comments below!


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